‘Who else shoots regularly in Whalsay?’ he asked. He tried to keep his voice relaxed and easy.
‘Most of the men do. We’re all trying to keep down the rabbits. What is this about?’
‘It’s the sort of thing I need to say in my report. Better me asking the questions than a lawyer in the court.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Ronald looked straight at Perez again. ‘I know you’re only doing your job. I should be grateful. Ask whatever you like.’
‘Nah, I’ve done for today. Go and tell Anna the news.’
Ronald grinned. ‘Thanks, I will. I’m going out tonight, fishing with one of my friends. Not on the big boat, but one of the inshore ones. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave her alone with this hanging over us. At least now she’ll be able to focus on the baby and her work. She’s setting up a website for her business. And she still has knitting orders to complete.’
Perez thought that sounded like a phrase Anna would use. I need to focus on my work.
Ronald stood up and left the office. He didn’t wait for Perez to follow, but ran straight out of the front door of the house. Then he began to bound down the hill to the bungalow, like a boy running just for the pleasure of it.
‘Ronald, is that you?’ Jackie emerged from the kitchen, saw Perez alone in the office and frowned. ‘What have you done with Ronald?’
‘I’ve done nothing with him. The Fiscal has decided not to press charges. He’s gone to celebrate with his wife.’ It wasn’t his place to tell the woman, but she’d find out soon enough. He was surprised Ronald hadn’t called in to tell her. Even more surprised that Sandy had managed to keep his mouth shut.
She stood very still. Suddenly Perez realized that the gaudy clothes, the silly hairdo, the talking had been her way of fending off the possibility of her son’s disgrace, to keep up appearances in front of her husband. It would have hurt her just as much as Anna to see Ronald in court, his picture in the Shetland Times in a suit and tie waiting for the case to be heard. ‘Thank God,’ she said, her voice so low that he could hardly make out the words. Then, quietly triumphant, ‘This will stop the talk on the island. Evelyn Wilson will have to watch what she says about us now. There’ll be no more spreading of stories and lies.’
Sandy had walked into the hall to see what was going on. He heard the words and blushed.
Chapter Seventeen
They went for lunch at the Pier House Hotel. Fish and chips served in the bar, blessedly free of smoke since the ban. Perez had been surprised at how law-abiding Shetlanders had been when the smoking ban came in. Especially on the outer islands where there was little danger of being caught by the police. On the smaller isles few people even bothered with MoTs or vehicle licences. He remembered as a boy the police flying in to Fair Isle after a birdwatcher had fallen to his death from the cliff. As the plane came in to land all the cars on the place were driven into barns or hidden by tarpaulin. By contrast this law was generally observed.
‘Will my grandmother’s body be released for the funeral now?’ Sandy was halfway through his second pint. His resolution to give up strong drink hadn’t lasted long. Perez had ordered coffee and was surprised at how good it was.
‘Aye, I don’t see why not.’
‘Only my mother wants to start making the arrangements. My brother will need to come up from the south. He doesn’t like dragging himself up here but he can hardly get out of visiting at a time like this.’
‘Do the two of you not get on?’
Sandy shrugged. ‘I was always closer to Ronald when we were bairns. Michael was my mother’s favourite. Maybe I was jealous.’
Perez wasn’t sure what response to make to this. Sandy didn’t usually show so much insight.
‘It is all over?’ Sandy went on. ‘I mean the case.’
Again Perez thought Sandy was being uncharacteristically perceptive. ‘The Fiscal doesn’t see any case to answer.’
‘It’s just you were a long time with Ronald this morning. I mean, it doesn’t take half an hour to tell a man he won’t be prosecuted.’
‘I want to be sure in my own mind that it was an accident,’ Perez said.
‘You’re saying Ronald meant to shoot her?’ The words had come out as an outraged shriek. Sandy looked around him and was relieved to see that the bar was empty. Even Jean from Glasgow had disappeared into the kitchen.
‘I’m saying there are problems with his version of events.’
‘He’s not a liar,’ Sandy said. ‘Never has been.’
‘Have you seen much of him since you left home?’
‘Not so much. It’s not like when you’re at school, is it? We each have our own lives to lead. But he wouldn’t have shot Mima. Not on purpose. She was as much a grandmother to him as she was to me.’
Perez hesitated, reluctant to put into words the idea that had taken root in his mind and had been growing since the conversation with the Fiscal. He looked around to check that the bar was still empty and kept his voice low: ‘Someone else could have shot Mima. Put the blame on Ronald.’
‘That’s what Rhona Laing thinks?’ Sandy seemed astonished.
‘She’s not prepared to dismiss the idea out of hand. It’s one explanation for the facts, for Mima being outside on a night like that, for Ronald’s certainty that he wasn’t shooting over the Setter land. But she doesn’t want any sort of fuss made.’
‘In case she upsets her friends in high places.’ Everyone in Shetland knew about Rhona Laing’s political ambitions.
‘Aye. Something like that.’ Perez paused. ‘You said Mima asked you to call in the next time you were in Whalsay. Did she give you any idea what she wanted to discuss?’
‘No.’ Sandy looked up at him. ‘You think she realized she was in danger?’
‘I’m just considering possibilities.’
‘What will you do about it?’
For a moment Perez thought. What in fact could he do? He could only afford a limited time in Whalsay and from his office in Lerwick he had no chance of getting any sort of sense of what was going on here. It might only be a short ferry ride from Shetland mainland but this was an enclosed community and it took an insider to understand what was going on.
‘Do you have any leave to take?’ Perez knew Sandy always had leave. He was famous for it. He managed to carve out time for himself from his official working day and always complained at the end of his leave year that he still had holiday to take.
‘Aye, a few days.’ Sandy was suspicious. They’d had arguments about this before. Perez on the warpath. ‘If you’ve been out on the piss and wake up with such a hangover that you can’t face work, take it as holiday. Don’t invent imaginary dental appointments.’
‘Maybe now would be a good time to use them up. Stay here. Help your mother sort out the funeral. Ask a few questions…’ Perez looked at Sandy, just checking that he understood what Perez was asking.
‘But I’m involved,’ Sandy said. ‘They’re all family. You said yourself I should have got out as soon as the investigation started.’
‘This isn’t an investigation,’ Perez said. ‘You’re making informal enquiries. Mima was your grandmother. It’s hardly surprising that you’re interested in how she died. But be discreet. The Fiscal was absolutely clear about that.’
‘The Fiscal asked me to follow this up?’ Sandy stared back. The Fiscal had never been particularly complimentary about his abilities as a detective.
Perez was saved the necessity of lying, because they were interrupted by the arrival of two young women. He recognized one as the archaeologist who’d turned up, distressed, at the Wilson house. The other was taller, stronger, with long corn-coloured hair, a wide mouth, freckles. She was talking, almost dragging Hattie behind her into the bar.